


so he twirls and twirls

by wordbending



Series: The Search for the Six Souls [3]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Depression, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Other, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, References to Chara's traumatic past, References to Transphobia, References to discrimation against monsters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-01
Updated: 2019-03-01
Packaged: 2019-11-07 15:45:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17963426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordbending/pseuds/wordbending
Summary: Chara's getting sick of Asriel. They don'thatehim, but... it gets tiring, seeing Asriel not act like Asriel, or worse,fakeacting like Asriel, day after day.Asriel needs help.And what better form of therapy is there than retail therapy?





	so he twirls and twirls

**Author's Note:**

> Title and one line of narration comes from ["A Boy Can Wear A Dress,"](https://www.poets.org/poetsorg/poem/boy-can-wear-dress) by John Bosworth.
> 
> In terms of "The Search for the Six Souls," this is a sidestory. Reading the others is not required to read this, but events are referenced.

You were getting sick of Asriel.

Yes, you loved him. You loved him deeper than the deepest trenches in the most far-away ocean, you adored him, you would trade the world for him. All those things were true.

But ever since he’d been revived, ever since the artificial soul had been implanted in his robot body and his consciousness as Flowey had been uploaded into it, he’d… changed.

He wasn’t the boy you once knew, not entirely. He was more cynical, less naive about the world. He suffered from depression, PTSD, bouts of rage and anger. He snapped at people. Sometimes, like a few months ago, he just _snapped,_ turning his inner rage outward on other people - even you.

You wanted him to get better desperately. You wanted him to turn back into the boy he once was, before you lost that boy forever, before he became so consumed in his fury and hatred that he transformed into a different person entirely.

You only hoped you weren’t too late. That’s what you were sick of - the exhaustion, the stress, of watching Asriel, in Asriel’s body, act nothing like Asriel. Or if he _did_ act like Asriel, you could tell he was faking, putting on a front. You didn’t _hate_ him, but it made you so tired, day after day.

But Frisk told you to never give up, to “stay determined,” so you had encouraged Asriel to go to therapy. He _hated_ therapy, but you knew he went not just because of you, but because some part of him wanted to get better too. You also tried to encourage him to do other things to heal, to show that he wasn’t just anger and violence, like taking care of stray cats, like playing baseball, like watching cartoons with Alphys and Frisk, like just talking with his friends and family.

And now you were taking him clothes shopping with Frisk, because there was no better form of therapy in the world than retail therapy, in your humble opinion.

Of course, going clothes shopping meant going into the nearby city, the _human_ city of Osaka. You’d almost had a panic attack at the thought - but you were willing to do it, to handle your fears, if it meant helping Asriel. And at least nobody would recognize you, because it had been a _thousand years._

So the three of you take a bus from the nearest bus stop to New New Home - you almost wished you actually _were_ ruler of the monsters so you could come up with better names for things. Only a few other monsters you didn’t know that well were on the bus with you.

Asriel, though, seems more nervous than you are, which is weird. You reach out for his paw and rub it gently.

Frisk signs at him, _Are you OK?_

“Ree,” you add. “It’s alright to be scared.”

Asriel frowns, pulling his paw away from you just an inch. You stubbornly put it right back on there and continue rubbing it. “I’m not _scared.”_

“Oh, don’t give me that,” you say, rolling your eyes. “You think _I_ can’t tell when you’re scared?”

Asriel lets out a sigh, hanging his head. He looks, to you, like he wants to say something, but no words come out.

“Ree,” you repeat. “Please. Tell me what’s scaring you.”

“I can’t,” he says, flinching. You can almost imagine the old Asriel crying - he cried a lot - but you haven’t seen Asriel properly cry ever since Frisk saved him over a year ago. He just doesn’t seem to have it in him anymore, which is a depressing thing to think about.

Frisk signs at him, _Don’t worry. You can tell us when you’re ready._

You immediately want to protest. You want to say, pettily, “No, he should tell us _now,_ so I can _help him,”_ but… Frisk is probably right. They usually are - they’re good at supporting other people, even if they’re not quite as good at supporting themselves. You wished they’d take their own advice more often, but they still struggled to see themselves as worthy of the same love they showed others.

So you say, “Frisk is right. When you’re ready, we’ll be there.”

“Thank you,” Asriel replies.

The rest of the bus ride goes uneventfully. Asriel stays quiet, which makes things awkward - you wish he’d play or laugh with you or even hold your hand. Frisk stays quiet too, not even signing at you, so you don’t say anything back.

You hope this shopping trip goes well.

When you walk off the bus, there are humans there, some in more Western casual wear, some in kimonos and yukatas. You instantly freeze, your face snapping into the smile you’ve worn all your life.

Frisk takes your hand first. They squeeze it gently, like Asriel used to do, and you feel safer. You know Frisk must be frightened of humans, even if they don’t just hate the entire species the way you do, so their protection, their courage, is a comfort. You trust Frisk to disarm any conflicts that might arise, to reassure you from any whispers behind your back - they’re good at that.

Asriel takes your hand next. He blushes and looks away from you, a serious expression on his face, and you almost laugh until you realize he’s trying not to shake. Is he afraid of humans too? You never would have imagined that, but… it made sense. _Humans_ had been the ones to kill him, after all. _Humans_ had caused your death too, by causing the monsters to be sealed underground and forcing you to try to break the barrier. It was another reason for you to hate them.

Emboldened, although you’re not sure if it’s because of the hands and paws you’re holding or because of your innate desire to protect Asriel, you stare down the humans. They stare back. Well, most of them do. Some of them look away from you, clearly uncomfortable. Good.

“Royalty coming through,” you say, even though you know that’s probably a bad idea. “Move it.”

And, before any of the humans can do the many, many things you know humans do when they’re angry, you walk away, tightly holding onto Frisk and Asriel’s hand and paw.

When you’re out of earshot of the humans at the bus stop, you break into giggles. Frisk laughs too, and even Asriel smiles.

“You don’t have to play the royalty card, you know,” he says.

“Why not?” you say, smiling your brattiest smile. “You’re a future king. People should _bow_ to you.”

“I’m not a future king unless I marry someone,” Asriel says, with a small shrug.

You start to say, “Wow, I’m hurt,” but Frisk speaks first, a… strange expression on their face. It’s like they’re trying to wink with their eyes closed, and they’re grinning widely. It takes you a moment to remember what that expression means.

“Then marry us.”

Asriel turns bright crimson. He stammers, “W-w-what? I can’t… I can’t just…! I’m too young!”

You feel your cheeks getting warm as well, but in spite of it, you say, “Oh, relax. They’re just flirting.” And definitely _not_ to change the subject, you add, “Frisk, have you found us a store?”

Frisk takes out their cellphone and displays to you a GPS map. There are directions on it to a store called “Beauty & Youth.”

“Well, let’s get our asses in gear then,” you say, trying not to think of the idea of Asriel and Frisk marrying you. Not to say you hadn’t dreamed, sometimes literally, of that very thing, particularly the idea of marrying Asriel. You’d just apparently had once had very strange ideas of what “marriage” entailed.

Less than eight minutes later, you arrive at Beauty & Youth… after barreling your way past crowds of humans. You’re still too caught up in your boost of self-confidence to care too deeply about being afraid of them, but Frisk and Asriel can barely keep up with the speed of your movement.

“Geez, Chara,” says Asriel, breathing heavily. “Do you have to go so fast?”

“Sooner we get this over with, sooner we can go home,” you say, smiling at him. “Think of it that way.”

 _I want to shop,_ Frisk signs.

“And Frisk wants to shop,” you say. “Ready, Ree?”

“I guess,” Asriel says.

You make a face. “Nope. That won’t do. You have to be ready.”

And you squeeze his paw, to try and reassure him.

“So tell me when you are. I’ll wait.”

Frisk smiles at him too, even though they’ve already made it clear that they want to let go of your hand and rush off into the store. Even if they hadn’t said it, you knew them well enough to know that’s exactly what they would have done if given the chance.

But Asriel frowns. “It’s just…” He squeezes his eyes shut. “I don’t know how to explain it.”

“Can I take a guess?” you offer.

Asriel looks unsure, but he says, “Sure. I guess you can.”

“You... still want to hurt people. That’s what I think. Like” - you whisper the next word softly - “Flowey.” You continue to speak as gently as you can. “I see that look in your eyes sometimes. And every time you see someone, you want to hurt them, right?”

“...Yeah,” Asriel says, more than a little bitterness seeping into his voice. He smiles at you. “I’m sick, aren’t I?”

“If that makes you sick, then I’m sick too,” you say. “You think I don’t go every day of my life without wanting to hurt humans? I see them and I just feel so… furious. I just want to see them wiped off the face of the Earth.”

Frisk looks uncomfortable with this conversation. They stare at you, frowning.

You squeeze Frisk’s hand and smile down at them. “Don’t worry, Frisk. I know before I ever _did_ hurt a human, you’d reach into my very soul and rescue me from my own dark thoughts or whatever it is you do.” You look back up at Asriel. “And that’s what we’re going to do for you, Ree. We’re going to save you. We’re going to show you that you’re not Flowey.”

 _You’re not going to hurt anyone,_ Frisk signs. _You’re a good person. You can do this._

“Thanks,” Asriel says, a more genuine smile coming to his face. “I think I’m ready now.”

“Then let’s go,” you say, gently, not impatiently. “Let’s show this place what _real_ fashion looks like.”

* * *

Asriel emerges from the dressing room, where you and Frisk are waiting for him. Frisk is in a dress, a long purple one with images of giant red cartoon hearts all over it, and they’ve put on a straw hat with a purple ribbon tied around the brim. You’re in a blue and black striped hoodie and black slacks (with your locket on your neck, of course) and you’re doing a very cool, very casual lean against the wall.

Asriel, though, comes out wearing… a green and yellow striped shirt and dark blue pants, as well as his locket.

Oh, you’re going to _smack_ him.

“That’s _every pair of clothes you own,_ you dork,” you say.

“I like it,” he says back. “Besides, I… don’t know what else to wear.”

 _What Chara’s trying to say is,_ Frisk signs, signing the words for ‘chocolate’ and ‘child.’ _You should try new things._

“That’s what this is all about,” you add. “Here, tell you what, _I’ll_ go get you some new things.”

 _Me too,_ signs Frisk.

Asriel sighs. “OK. Sure.”

And the two of you race back into the store to pick out some new outfits.

* * *

A few minutes later, you and Frisk have thrown a bunch of clothes into Asriel’s arms and he’s gone back into the dressing room. You wait impatiently for him to change into his first outfit.

When he emerges again, he’s wearing what looks like a school uniform. It’s all black, except for the white stripes on the collar and the purple undershirt underneath it.

He’s blushing. Of course he is.

“Good grief,” he mutters under his breath. “This looks ridiculous.”

“It is _not._ It’s very…” You struggle to find the words. “Classy.”

 _You look really good, Asriel,_ Frisk signs.

“Now try another one.”

He disappears into the dressing room again. When he comes back, he’s wearing a blue hooded jacket that opens to reveal a shirt that says ‘BAD BOY’ on it in white letters, as well as a pair of gray cargo pants.

“Why did you pick this one?” he moans, twisting around to look at himself.

You pause. “Why _did_ we pick that one? Frisk?”

 _What does it say?_ Frisk signs, squinting at it.

“‘Bad boy’, in all caps. He’s not a bad boy. That’s the whole point of this little adventure.”

Frisk makes a face. _That’s not good._

“Try another one,” you suggest. “I’m sure we’ll get one you like.”

“Fine,” Asriel says. He goes back into the dressing room. When he emerges again, he’s wearing a blue, plaid vest over a light pink shirt and a pair of dark blue suit pants. He’s also wearing a rainbow scarf wrapped around his neck, his locket hanging under it.

 _That looks great!_ Frisk signs excitedly, smiling the widest smile you’ve seen on them so far. _I love the scarf!_

“I agree,” you say, smiling. “That looks fantastic on you.”

“I... don’t like it,” Asriel sighs. “It’s not… it doesn’t feel like…”

You frown.

 _You?_ Frisk signs.

“Yeah, exactly,” Asriel agrees.

“Well, we’ve been picking outfits _for_ you,” you say, crossing your arms and shutting your eyes as you think about what you’re going to say next. You open your eyes again and stare at Asriel, as gently as you can manage. “What about what _you_ want? What have you always wanted to wear?”

Asriel takes a deep breath. He flinches. “I… I can’t say it.”

 _Why not?_ Frisk signs.

“You can tell me anything, Ree,” you say.

Asriel pulls on his ears and pulls them down in front of his face. He mumbles, “It’s… it’s…”

You think you’re starting to understand what he’s getting at. You look at Frisk, who looks like the gears are turning in their head as well.

“Is it… a dress?” you offer quietly, so that nobody will overhear. “Like what your friend Cyan used to wear?”

Asriel nods slowly. You wonder why he’s so embarrassed… gender non-conformity wasn’t that uncommon among monsters.

But maybe he’s not actually that embarrassed. Maybe he’s _scared._ Because you know for a fact humans have a _thing_ about gender and experimenting, and that probably hasn’t really gone away after a thousand years. You’d never told him _why_ humans hated you and vice versa, and that was just one reason among many, but maybe he’d got that impression from somewhere else. Maybe he’d read about transphobia on the human internet or something.

“Then… why don’t you come with us?” you say. “And we can pick out a dress you like. You’ll be safe with us, promise.”

“Are you sure?” says Asriel, letting go of his ears and frowning at you, a deep blush on his cheeks.

“Sure. If anyone gets on your case about it, I’ll…” You look at Frisk before you can say ‘stab them in the ribs with a broken coat hanger.’ “I mean, Frisk and I will protect you.”

“OK,” Asriel agrees. “If it’s with you and Frisk, I’ll… I’ll do it.”

* * *

You keep calm as you head into the teenage girl’s clothing section with Asriel and Frisk, even though you don’t really feel calm either. There are teenagers there, _human_ teenagers, looking at clothing. Frisk is already wearing a dress, but will they be safe? You’re pretty androgynous, but will the human teenagers think you’re a boy because of your clothes? Will they look at Asriel and think _he_ doesn’t belong there, a monster boy in a human clothing store?

You have no idea. Experience tells you this can’t possibly end well. But you stay calm for Asriel’s sake, as well as Frisk’s.

You approach the dress display. There’s a person there in a skirt, who stares at the three of you, and then stares at the three of you _harder_ when they notice Asriel. Thankful to have Asriel and Frisk with you, you stare back, giving them your patented “fuck off” smile. With one last look, they scurry away, giving you free access to the dresses.

“So, Ree,” you say, looking at the dresses. “See any you like?”

Asriel blushes and looks down to the floor. You give his paw a reassuring squeeze as he mumbles, “I… I don’t know.”

“Never worn a dress before, huh?”

He shakes his head. “No.”

“Well, Frisk, you like dresses,” you say, turning to them. “See any you think would look good on him?”

Frisk lets go of your hand and walks up to a pastel pink dress with a lacey hemline and a white collar. It looks old-fashioned to you - not really your thing.

But is it Asriel’s…?

Apparently not, because Asriel shakes his head again. “I don’t like pink.”

“Alright, well… how about this?” you say, turning to a long green dress. “You like green, don’t you?”

Asriel shakes his head again. “I like green, but it’s too… frilly. I want...”

He looks around, until his eyes land on… a little black dress. Simple but stylish, you think. You look at his expression as a smile comes to his face. “This one.”

“Cute!” chirps Frisk.

“Wonderful,” you say. “We’ll take that to the dressing room. But first…” You smile. “You need accessories.”

“I can’t wear hats,” says Asriel, pointing to his horns.

“Oh, have some imagination,” you say. “We’ll pick something good out.”

* * *

After about twenty minutes of searching for the perfect accessories, you all but shove Asriel into the dressing room with his dress.

And then you wait. You’re excited, almost eager, about this, and you can tell Frisk is too - it’s a really cute dress, and Asriel is really cute, and God, it’s going to be so cute. But the important thing is, of course, if _Asriel_ is happy with it. If he likes it, then this whole trip will have been worth it.

If he doesn’t… well, there’s always next time, you try to tell yourself. One day, he’ll be the boy you remember. You have to be sure of that.

You hear a gasp from inside the dressing room, and what sounds like… crying? Without hesitation, you knock on the door - you have to stop yourself from kicking it down.

“Asriel?” you say, panic coming into your breath. “Are you alright?”

“Asriel…” Frisk says, in their usual soft voice. “It’s OK. You don’t have to wear the dress.”

Abruptly, the door handle turns, and you back away from it. So does Frisk.

And what emerges is… Asriel, tears rolling down his cheeks, wearing a black dress that barely goes below his furry white knees and a black purse and a white scarf and the _biggest smile you’ve seen on his face in a thousand years._

“Ree!” you say, still concerned even though you also feel a sense of relief wash over you.

Frisk signs, _You look happy!_

“I _am_ happy,” says Asriel. He wipes the tears from his eyes, then takes the dress and spins around, making it swirl around his knees. “It’s perfect. It’s _perfect._ I love it!”

You feel yourself starting to cry, and before you can, you tackle Asriel into not just a hug. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down into a wet, sloppy kiss, and he freezes up for a second before kissing you back.

You don’t know how long it takes you to pull away from the kiss. You don’t care, even though Frisk wolf whistles at you both, because God, you love him. You _missed_ seeing him like this - happy, excited about things. It’s a sign, you think. A sign that he can get better.

And you want him too so much. Not for your sake, but for his. You just want him to be happy - he deserves happiness. No, he deserves more than that - he deserves all the fire of all the stars in the sky, all the water of the ocean, all the air of the wind. Everything that ever was and will be. You would conquer the world for him - you would destroy it all, for him.

Is that unhealthy of you? Probably. Definitely.

But it’s how you’ve always felt. Nothing can keep him from these thoughts, from making you lose your mind, from having him sluice your heart in the way that he does. Nothing can keep him.

The moment you do pull away from the kiss, blushing deeply but smiling a soft, genuine smile, he grins at you, blushing himself. Then Frisk comes over, stands up on the tips of their toes, and kisses him too - on the cheek. He blushes at that too.

“We’re buying this,” you say.

Asriel’s grin fades. He looks away. “We… we can’t. You can’t afford it, we don’t have money…”

“Oh, don’t be silly,” you say. “You deserve this. I don’t care how much it costs.”

 _I’ll pay for it,_ Frisk signs. _Chara is right - you deserve it._

Asriel smiles. He looks between you both and his eyes water all over again.

“Thank you,” he says, sniffling. “Thank you so much.”

* * *

You expect something to go wrong, to ruin this day, but it doesn’t. The cashier doesn’t say “we don’t sell to monsters” when they see Asriel. No humans talk behind your back, or attack you. Everything goes smoothly as you take yourself, Asriel, Frisk, and your shopping bags back to the bus to go home.

When you get in the bus, Asriel is laughing at a not very funny joke Frisk has told a million times that goes “What do you call a monster celebrity?” (“A mon-star,” of course). You’re so happy to hear him laugh your heart could nearly burst.

As you sit in your seats, you tell your own joke (“What do I say when I greet people?” “Greetings?” “No, _knife_ to meet you.”) and Asriel laughs at that too, even though it isn’t that funny either.

Finally, Asriel tells his own joke.

“What do you call two humans and a monster on a boat?”

You’re stumped. You can’t even guess.

“I don’t know,” you say.

 _Me either,_ signs Frisk.

“A friend-ship!”

Frisk giggles. You roll your eyes, but you smile. “That’s so cheesy, Ree.”

He just laughs.

* * *

When you get home, Toriel is waiting for you. She smiles when she sees the three of you, but she’s curious about the shopping bags, and even more curious about why Asriel looks so happy. So you tell her that Asriel got something for himself, and Asriel is the one to offer to show it to her.

A few minutes later, Asriel emerges from your shared bedroom, wearing his dress and purse and scarf. He looks nervous about how his mother is going to react, but Toriel looks nothing less than overjoyed. She raises a paw to her mouth, a wide smile crossing her face and her eyes watering.

“Oh, dearest one, you look beautiful!” she says. “I am so happy for you!”

And Asriel smiles back, looking close to tears himself. He nearly trips over himself running up to hug her again, and she kisses his forehead over and over.

You smile at them both. So does Frisk.

You’re not a fool. You know this won’t last forever. It’s only temporary - Asriel still needs therapy, real therapy, real help. One dress isn’t going to chase away all his demons, just like that.

But… today has made you feel something you haven’t felt in a long time.

Hope.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Ivy and Willow for betaing this fic!


End file.
